It is much more than you could think... Like the snow caressed by the purest breeze still untamed... It is the wanted side of the moon... Probably just the rumor of thousands of unknown vagabonds...
It is the tunnel of your hesitations... the rhydms of your tremor, the beat of your nostalgias, the melody of endings never finished...
Perhaps, it is just you, the mere reflex from a mirror so many times shattered by those fears that prevented you from embracing the eternal dawn...
Beyond all the determinations and closer than you might think, there is always, -pertinacious and stubborn-, the rare pureness of the truth... saving you... whispering you all the futures and pasts that make you feel the one that you are... that soulful and lonesome shadow, willing to marry solitude because that's the price to be free...
It is the end whose taste is in beginning... it is the consolation for the reward always refused...
It is the fate because of your foundations... It is the pilgrimage in homage to those who made you the way you are... It is, in the end, the glory of countless knights from ancient times in which there were queens and kings, princess and princes... times where dreams always came true...
It is you... just you... the one who can change the world... the one who can rest in peace... the one who was blessed in an uncultivated land of jars... just you... you...
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